of hope to sinful men; and from an operative conviction, that the de cisions of revelation will forever remain firm and immovable, while the selfish plans of finite depraved beings will be utterly frustrated.

That a man, acting habitually under the influence of such principles, should be eminently disinterested, follows of course. It is presumed, that no person ever found Mr. Huntington devising schemes for his personal aggrandizement, attempting to secure popularity, planning to obtain influence, or solicitous with respect to what men thought of him. He had far higher and nobler aims, in the pursuit of which these low objects were left out of sight. He appeared never to think of himself, and not to have any personal or private interests.

To this entire disinterestedness was added a most uncommon share of prudence. Constitutionally reserved, except in the company of intimate friends, he was prevented by long continued habit from making rash or incautious declarations. This habit was fortified by religious considerations; so that no instance is remembered of his having given pain to himself or others, by an unadvised speech. With all this wonderful exemption from sinning with his lips, he had no timidity that prevented his giving a decided opinion, when duty required it. Some instances are fresh in the memory, in which he took a bold posi tion, from which many a forward presumptuous man would have been deterred.

The most consummate prudence is perfectly consistent with unwavering firmness; and is totally different from that vacillating temper, which sometimes assumes its name. So it was found in the character we are contemplating. When the path of duty was ascertained, no fears were apprehended from walking in it. When conscience was satisfied with a measure, it was of course adopted and pursued, and the result was quietly left to the disposal of Infinite Wisdom.

The most important of the Christian virtues,-that which our Savvior enjoined more frequently than any other, and which imparts a beauty and propriety to all the rest, is humility. In the exercise of this virtue Mr. Huntington was greatly distinguished. His natural disposition was modest and retiring; but his humility was a different thing from native modesty however amiable. It was a temper of celestial origin, and pervaded his whole character. He entertained a low opinion of his own attainments, of his piety, of his abilities, of his public services; and never appeared to look upon himself, or his labors, with any feeling of self-gratulation.

As a preacher of the Gospel the commanding feature of his charac ter was fidelity. What he conceived to be the message of the Most High he faithfully delivered. As he understood the Bible according to the plain and obvious sense of its language, he received and preached those doctrines of revelation, which are usually called the doctrines of grace. The depravity of man, the necessity of a spiritual change, the sovereignty of God in the dispensation of his favor, the universal obligation to a life of holiness, the free offers of salvation to all, the free rejection of it by those who are lost, the perseverance of those who have been renewed, and the unalterable allotments of the righte ous and the wicked; these truths, and others intimately connected with them, and the practical duties resulting from them, formed the sub

stance of his sermons. The style of his written and extemporaneous performances was neat, simple, and dignified, never descending to coarseness, or unbecoming familiarity, sometimes rising to impassioned eloquence. His delivery was easy and natural, chaste and animated. His voice, at once sonorous and agreeable, easily filled the largest houses of public worship. The highest proof of the interest, which his preaching excited, is found in the fact, that this interest was regularly increasing. Many times, in the two last years of his life, did we hear different members of his congregation express their warm attachment to their pastor, their high sense of the power and general excellence of his preaching, and their conviction that, though always beloved, he was becoming more and more dear to his people. In his preparations for the pulpit he was sedulous and laborious, often regretting that his multiplied avocations did not leave him more time for this part of his duty, and always entering his study with delight. In discharging the office of a pastor, he was peculiarly attentive to the poor of the flock, visiting them more frequently than any other class of persons, and assigning, as a reason for this practice, their peculiar need of instruction and consolation. They were not unmindful of his kindness to them, and have often mentioned it since his death with tears. In their distresses from sickness and penury, he did not withhold any relief, which he was able to afford; but imparted to them, according to his means, with a liberal hand.

To all the great religious charities, which distinguish the present day, Mr. Huntington was a cordial friend. In several he took an active part. Of the Boston Society for the Moral and Religious Instruction of the Poor, which was formed in the year 1816, he was President till his death. He was Secretary of the Boston Foreign Mission Society from its formation in 1811; and, on the last anniversary before his death, delivered an eloquent speech to a highly gratifed audience, in which he defended the cause of missions, and pleaded earnestly in behalf of a world perishing in ignorance and sin.

Possessing all these ministerial gifts, and enjoying the confidence of his brethren, and of the churches extensively, to human view it appeared desirable, that his life and services should be prolonged, where they were so much needed, and esteemed so invaluable. But to the Supreme Disposer it seemed otherwise. Nothing remains, therefore, but to exercise that submission, which becomes weak and erring creatures; and to wait for an explanation of the mysteries of the divine government, in that blessed world, where it shall be seen, that all events conspire to promote the glory of Him, by whom they are directed.

REVIEW.

CXL. Memoir of the Rev. HENRY MARTYN, B. D. late Fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge, and Chaplain to the Honorable East India Company. By JOHN SARGENT. jun. First American Edition, Boston: S. T. Armstrong. 1820. pp. 490. 8vo, and 12mo.

THE writer of this book begins with quoting from Pascal a description of three classes of great men; heroes, applauded for their warlike

achievements;-men of vigorous intellect, or brilliant imagination;and those who deny themselves, and are actuated by a compassionate love for mankind. Though he does not give examples in each of these classes, the reader will easily make the impression more lasting, by arraying Nimrod, Sesostris, Nebuchadnezzar, Alexander, Cæsar, Tamerlane, Frederic of Prussia, Bonaparte, Nelson, and Wellington, in the first class; Homer, Aristotle, Cicero, Bacon and Milton in the second; and a long list of worthies, terminating with Brainerd, Howard and Martyn, in the third. Such is the deplorable state of the world, that warriors have always had the most extensive fame, and have been more generally the objects of admiration than any other men. In later times, however, men of distinguished talents, poets, orators, statesmen, have contended with warriors with some success; for though the number of their admirers is not so great, it is more select. To a person who regards things in the light which the New Testament sheds upon them, it never can be doubtful, that all the genuine greatness, which this world has ever seen, is found among the truly good;-among those, who, by a life of self-renunciation, consult the great, permanent, and eternal interests of their fellow men. What can be more evident, than that the salvation of the soul is in itself a greater object, than the whole temporal existence of the inhabitants of this world? Who can hesitate to admit, that for a man to disregard his own ease, comfort, reputation, and life, from a sincere desire to make others happy, is an exhibition of noble generosity, a real elevation of character, compared with which the selfish hazards of warriors, and the eager aspirations of scholars and statesmen, are low and despicable. Yet, if we compare the fame of a good man, a Baxter for instance, with that of a popular writer, who, possessing no more talents than Baxter, devotes them all to please mankind as they are. how distressing is the result. We would not intimate, that Baxter and Bunyan, Watts and Edwards, have not many readers; but, if you inquire respecting them in the circles of wit and fashion, how little will you be able to learn. Among men of extensive reading, and acute observation, capable of arguing philosophically, and criticising ingeniously, how many will you find, that can weigh the merits of Pope and Dryden, Addison and Johnson, Scott and Byron, for one, who feels a deep and lively interest in truly evangelical writings, where holiness shines with resplendent lustre, and the grand effort is to reconcile man to his Maker and Redeemer,

Let a Park or a Burckhardt, perish in attempting to trace the course of the Niger, and how loudly will his praises be celebrated, in all the great Reviews, and in every vehicle, which the learned and the ingenious control, for the transfusion of their worldly principles and maxims into the hearts of their worldly-minded readers. But if a Brainerd wears himself out in his youth, while laboring for the instruction, renovation and salvation of savages; if a Martyn, scorched and withered on the burning plains of India and Persia, translates the Gospel for millions of Mahomedans and idolaters, and falls, exhausted and alone, after the severest studies, and most self-denying labors;— all this passes off, in the eye of the world, as a small matter. Burckhardt, they think, was in the pursuit of a great object. He went to

obtain geographical knowledge; to solve geographical paradoxes; to enlarge the boundaries of science; to make the range of discovery subservient to commerce; to prepare the way for civilization; to gratify a natural curiosity; to increase the astonishment of the world at British enterprise; to get the praise of executing an arduous design,-of . doing what had never been done before, and thus to establish an imperishable name; that is, a name as imperishable as books of the present day, and the praises of cotemporaries, can make it in this perishable world. But Brainerd appears to have been engaged only for the conversion of a few tribes of wandering Indians, and for the salvation of their souls, and the souls of their children; and Martyn aimed only at changing the faith of the eastern nations; at turning them from superstition and idolatry, and bringing them to the knowledge of the truth, the acceptable worship of God, and all the blessings, temporal and eternal, which accompany such a change. The men of the world will admit, if their minds will look at facts, that Brainerd (and Martyn possessed uncommon talents, great industry, good sense, supreme devotion to their work, unconquerable perseverance, and a 1 most disinterested spirit. But the difficulty is, their object is not pleasing to a worldly mind; and the whole mystery is explained by this incomparable description, in the words of our Savior: If ye were of the world, the world would love his own; but because ye are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you.

The present fashion and taste of the world will not last forever. The world itself will be changed; and all the inhabitants will love Christ, and honor his distinguished followers. Then will be seen a surprising revolution among the competitors of fame. Then will be exemplified the declaration of Christ; Many that are first, shall be last, and the last first. Perhaps it would be difficult to select a more striking illustration of this maxim in the divine governments than is fur✩ nished by Brainerd in the wilderness with his Indians, and Brainerd as he is cherished in the affectionate esteem and adiniration of the Christian church. While laboring at Crossweeksung, he thought nothing of that celebrity, which now attends his name. He never dreamed of standing first on the list of modern worthies, who have not counted their lives dear unto themselves, and who, burning with intense love to Christ and the souls of the heathen, have submitted to innumerable privations and hardships and cheerfully yielded themselves a sacrifice to their zeal and fidelity.

We cannot help regarding the honor, which is rendered by so many thousands, in every portion of the Christian church, to distinguished benevolence, as one of the most encouraging characteristics of the present day. Unless we are greatly mistaken, the names of eminent missionaries, though unnoticed for a while, will live on this earth through ages of increasing virtue, happiness, and true glory. But how illustrious will be the reputation of those, that shall have turned many to righteousness, when the genuine excellence of their character shall be declared to the universe, and they shall shine as the brightness of the firmament for ever and ever.

Henry Martyn was the son of a laboring miner in Cornwall, who, by superior industry and intelligence, rose to a station, in which he VOL. XVI. 68.

enjoyed a competency, and was able to educate his children respectably. He was very fond of this son in particular, and sent him early to a grammar school, where he was prepared for admission to the University. During his boyhood, little Harry Martyn, as he was usually called, was remarkable for the ease, with which he learned his lessons, and for a tender, inoffensive spirit somewhat tinctured with peevishness, which exposed him to the oppression of rude and unfeeling companies. He became a resident at St. John's college, Cambridge, in Oct. 1797, being then in his 17th year. At the public examination the next summer he was the second in the first class, and in December 1799, reached the first station, an object for which he had labored intensely, and the obtaining of which pleased his father much. The intelligence of it arrived just before the good man was summoned from the world,

The death of his father had a serious effect upon the mind of young Martyn; and, in connexion with the exhortations of a pious sister, had a powerful tendency to draw him to reflection on eternal things. The history of his early religious impressions will be read with interest. In the summer of 1799, he made a visit to his father's house, of which we transcribe the following account:

"It may be well supposed, that to a sister, such as his, her brother's spiritual welfare would be a most serious and anxious concern: and that she often conversed with him on the subject of religion, we have his own declaration. I went home this summer, and was frequently addressed by my dear sister on the subject of religion; but the sound of the Gospel, conveyed in the admonition of a sister, was grating to my ears. The first result of her tender exhortations and earnest endeavors was very discouraging: a violent conflict took place in her brother's mind, between his convictions of the truth of what she urged and his love of the world; and, for the present, the latter prevailed: yet sisters, similarly circumstanced, may learn from this case not merely their duty, but from the final result, the success they may anticipate from the faithful discharge of it — I think,' he observes, when afterwards reviewing this period with a spirit truly broken and contrite, 'I do not remember a time, in which the wickedness of my heart rose to a greater height, than during my stay at home. The consummate selfishness and exquisite irritability of my mind were displayed in rage, malice, and envy, in pride and vain glory and contempt of all; in the harshest language to my sister, and even my father, if he happened to differ from my mind and will: O what an example of patience and mildness was he! I love to think of his excellent qualities, and it is frequently the anguish of my heart, that I ever could be base and wicked enough to pain him by the slightest neglect. O my God and Father, why is not my heart doubly agonized, at the remembrance of all my great transgressions against thee ever since I have known thee as such! I left my sister and father in October, and him I saw no more. I promised my sister that I would read the Bible for myself, but on being settled in college, Newton engaged all my thoughts.'" pp. 21-23.

Soon after the death of his father, he read a little in the Bible, began to use a form of prayer, and thought himself a religious man. At this time, however, he had little sense of his own sinfulness, was entirely ignorant of religion, and easily relapsed into a most vehement pursuit of academical fame. This passion was gratified in the summer of 1800, when he slood first upon the list at the college examination. From the following letter to his sister, written immediately after this triumph, there is reason to believe, that a gracious work was commenced in his heart.

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